


Sweet Dreams

by tatterwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, F/M, Mild Gore, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 00:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2792657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine waking up from a horrible nightmare and ending up in Sam's room where he comforts you and lets you stay the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams

Your reflection in the bathroom mirror stared back at you sullenly.

Y/E/C eyes fringed with long lashes and ringed with dark circles. Of course, those circles were now visible thanks to the damp washcloth you clutched like a flag of surrender. After years of hunting, the things you'd seen and done had accumulated.

Nightmares were as normal as breathing. You couldn't remember a time when you hadn't had them since you started hunting. But lately, the dreams had gotten worse. After the last hunt...

A cold shudder had goosebumps prickling over your skin. You'd been trapped, secured by ropes as fat as your wrist as the demon had carved 'pretty pictures' into your belly. Such threats had been very real once you'd gotten involved with the Winchesters. They were, after all, some of the world's most wanted hunters. Anyone close to them could be used as potential leverage. You'd known that when you'd started working with them. But boys had always kept you safe. Until that night, anyway.

You'd gotten split up from them during a search of a warehouse. One minute you were sprinting down an aisle, the next, you'd woken up tied and gagged. Three days. Three days you'd endured the demon and his knife. And then, on the third day, the door had burst wide. The first face you'd seen was Sam's. His eyes had been wide and wild as he stood over the threshhold. You'd watched as the brothers cut down the demon. Then, Sam had hovered over you like some bloodied guardian angel. His face flecked with scarlet and his hair damp with sweat as his hands freed the ropes. Back at the bunker, Castiel had healed you. Your body, at least.

You tossed the wet washcloth into the hamper and reluctantly slipped into bed. The covers were cool as you drew them up over your waist. In the small circle of lamplight, you curled up with a book. The pile by your bed was gradually dwindling. It was how you spent most nights; reading until your eyes burned and your neck became a wet noodle that refused to hold your head up any longer. Only when your eyelids seemed to glue themselves shut did sleep finally rise up and swallow you.

After a few hours, your head dipped and you heard the book drop to the floor. You briefly considered retrieving it. But then, sleep came.

And with sleep came the nightmare. You were there again, strapped to that wooden table. The thick ropes bit into your arms and legs and ribs as you struggled futilely. And then he came. The knives and tools glinted hungrily in the bright light. Every one of his teeth flashed when he smiled and brought the blades down. You could feel them moving over, through, in your flesh. You could hear the sounds as your skin split and your insides were toyed with. Your screams echoed, bouncing off the walls with his laughter.

With a muffled scream, you thrashed, heartbeat racing in your chest as you fought to free yourself from the constraints around you now. They were soft and downy against your skin, not rough and abrading. Quilts. Sheets. With a cry, you tossed the blankets away and sat shaking on the bed. Your hands slapped over your belly, rucking up your sleepshirt to find smooth, unmarred skin. Tears trickled down your face as you glanced at the clock beside the books on the nightstand. Not even an hour had passed since you'd last looked. You couldn't even make it an hour, now.

You needed to get up, to move, do something, anything. Carefully, you got up from the bed and opened your bedroom door. You could hear Dean's soft snores coming from down the hall. You felt a little better knowing that your noises hadn't woken him. The concrete floor was cold against the bare skin of your feet as you paced the hall. Your heart still beat frantically against your ribs as your hands restlessly rubbed over your arms and thighs.

Suddenly, you realized that at some point, you'd stopped pacing. The door to Sam's room stood before you. Quickly, before you could second-guess yourself, you raised a hand and gently rapped your knuckles against the surface. Of course, then you felt ridiculous. Everyone had nightmares. You knew for sure Dean did, Sam, too. You'd just woman-up and deal with them...

As you began moving back to your own door, the one behind you opened.

" _Y/N_?" Sam's low voice was husky with sleep.

The simple sound of your name on his lips had your feet glued to the floor. A tear tracked down your face and you raised a hand to swipe at it before he could see. Footsteps shuffled and then hands were on your shoulders. Your body was turned so that you faced the younger Winchester.

"Y/N, what's wrong? Did something happen? Are you hurt?"

Shamefully, you dipped your head and avoided his eyes. If you looked at him now, you'd lose it. "Nothing, Sam. It-it was just a bad dream."

One hand carefully cupped your chin. Sam made a soft sound and his thumb stroked your cheek. "You're crying."

Your eyes flicked up to his and you swallowed as more tears gathered, threatening to spill.

"Come here," Sam ushered you into his room and guided you to his bed.

He pushed the blankets back and sat down, motioning for you to come closer. When you curled in on yourself, he took it upon himself to move over and wrap an arm around your shoulders. At the reassuring touch, the tears finally burst free. Your body trembled as you sobbed against his shoulder. His hand stroked over your hair and he gently rocked back and forth. When your stammering breaths had eased, Sam tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You sniffed and curled tighter against him. "No, not really, but it-it might help."

"Okay." Sam's hand rubbed circles over your back as he listened to your accounts of your nightmares. When you finished, Sam's arms wrapped around you tight as he pulled you against his chest. His face buried itself into your hair and your ear pressed over his heart.

"I'm so sorry I didn't get there sooner, Y/N. You should never had gone through any of that. God, I'm so sorry-I never knew. I'm sorry." His voice cracked a little at the end.

Your chest constricted as you wound your arms around his neck. "It's okay, Sam. I knew what I was getting into palling around with you and Dean. None of it was your fault. It would have happened to anyone; you, Dean, me, another hunter. You saved me. You came back for me."

"But I wasn't there to save you from-" Sam shuddered. "I'm never gonna let anything like that happen to you again, Y/N."

You smiled against his shirt. "Thanks, Sam. But, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

Sam choked out a laugh. "Just...Humor me, all right?"

"All right," You sighed, drowsiness tugging at your eyelids again. "Sam, could I...Do you mind if I stay here with you tonight?"

"Of course not. You stay as long as you want." Sam disentangled himself from you and helped you stretch out beside him on the bed. He drew the blankets up over the two of you. "Here."

You rolled, resting your cheek against his chest and cautiously placing one hand over his heart. His chest rose in a deep breath and his lashes fluttered before he settled. His hand soothed over your back as you closed your eyes.

 

You woke some time later, a large body curled against your back.

One large arm was slung over your hip. Warm breath tickled your ear. You blinked blearily, shifting slightly. It all came back in a rush.

Sam moved behind you, chest expanding with a deep breath as he began to stir. You felt the exact moment when he finally became lucid. His body stiffened slightly. The arm over your hip lifted. You turned your head and blinked up at him, heat suffusing your cheeks.

Sam scrambled back, trying to put some distance between your bodies. You could have sworn that his cheeks were pink.

"Ah, good morning, Y/N." Sam's voice was...Pleasing. It was roughened from disuse over the night, the sound husky.

You bit your lip and slowly scootched up into a sitting position. "Good morning, Sam."

After fiddling with the edges of the blankets, you glanced up again. "Thanks for letting me stay here. I can't believe I slept through a whole night."

His throat worked as he nodded. "Anytime. I'm glad I could help."

"Do you...Could I...Would you mind if I stayed again tonight?" You glanced up from beneath your lashes.

Sam nodded. "Of course, anytime. If you want, that is."

You nodded and slowly rose. "Thanks, Sam. I...Thank you."


End file.
